


Us

by rainbowdots888



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7803061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowdots888/pseuds/rainbowdots888
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryo POV. Sometimes life seems as easy as a tender smile over a hot coffee. If only...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Us

Us...

It's in the way your head falls on my shoulder in the taxi bringing us back home after a long day. Your tired eyes are closing slowly as you struggle to keep your attention on the conversation. Your arm and hand become limp and rest on my lap, contracting slightly twice as you're still fighting for consciousness. I'll have to wake you up when we'll arrive because there is no way I can carry you up the stairs of your apartment complex's hall, I'm tired as well and you're weighing almost fifteen kilos more than me. Not that I complain, mind you.

It's in the sloppy kiss we exchange in the elevator leading to your place. Your lips are on mine and you're fully awake now, your hand slipping underneath my shirt and exploring relentlessly until I moan into your mouth. The ride is short, only a few floors, but it's enough to get us in the mood. You have me in your arms, my feet not even touching the floor anymore when we collide with your door. I'm dizzy and the wonders your lips are doing on my skin achieve to make the world spin around. The door opens suddenly. How did you do that? I can still feel your hands on me.

It's in the way your body dances with mine tonight, in the silent and hot apartment you live in. The AC is off and everything is to much, the heat, the humidity, the touches and the cries. You're feasting on my skin and I can't help tasting yours, our bodies tangled together in a tender embrace. It's hardly tender between us, we're more fighters than doves, but tonight we signed for the slowest and sweetest lovemaking of our relationship. Or it seems so to me. And it feels great.

It's in your spent and husky voice when you finally come inside me and whisper my name in the crook of my neck. I'd cross the distance from earth to the moon to hear that again, to hear it everyday. My nails are digging into your back, leaving red scratches there as I join you and cry my release. I definitely did it on purpose. You're mine and I want others to see my mark on you. I know you won't dare going shirtless for a while because of that but I don't care. You're mine.

It's in the cigarette we share afterwards, sprawled on the messy bed, discussing the songs we're writing. You want to write one on us, describing what we're living together, in simple and honest words. I'm touched by the attention but I tell you it's risky. Not that the listeners would understand, we already had our share of songs with sexy innuendos after all... But the others may get it. They're observing us recently. More than ever. You're taking the cig from my lips and kissing me to drown my words, to make them disappear far from this wonderful moment we're having now.

It's in the divine smell of fresh coffee that wakes me up the following morning. You know how to brew it perfectly for me and I came to love my mornings at yours almost as much as I love our nights. When I walk into the kitchen, you're waiting, two cups of steaming coffee sitting on the table. I rub my eyes and come closer for a morning kiss. We're not exchanging a word for we perfectly know each other and appreciate those silent moments when all the communication is done by our looks and our hands brushing each other's. Sometimes life seems as easy as a tender smile over a hot coffee. If only...

It's in the text I receive during an umpteenth boring interview that day. It's simple really, a few words, no emojis – you hate them – but it goes right to my heart. There's a picture attached, a photo of the sky above you right now, and your hand showing me the beautiful clouds. I'm slowly turning into a softy with you, how did you manage that miracle ? I swiftly type an answer as the interviewer is looking elsewhere and put the phone back into my pocket. I wonder how you'll react when you'll see the three words I sent you.

_I love you._

It's in the anxiousness that seizes my heart when I check my phone for the tenth time this afternoon. You're not answering and I suddenly fear I've gone too far, too fast. Even Maru can't make me smile during our show's recording. You're not here and I may have asked everyone why. Yokoyama kun told me with a doubting look that you were on set for your movie and that everyone knows it, what the hell is going on with me ? 

It's in your hand searching for mine under the table at the restaurant where we're having dinner with our friends. Subaru kun is bragging that he met an incredibly hot girl and they had some quality time together. Everyone is focused on his story but I can feel your long fingers intertwining with mine slowly, boldly. You fear nothing. Is that your answer to my message ? Later, when the conversation goes on, fueled by alcohol and delicious foods, Yoko reminds us all about that damn rule we're breaking. No relationship between members. It only leads to catastrophy. It's bad. He's drunk but he's glaring at me knowingly. The others seem oblivious and you're even laughing out loud at that, your own way to dismiss the threat.

It's in that afternoon off that we spend at the beach, you shyly sitting under a large umbrella and me lying under the hot sun. You tell me I'll burn one day, that my skin is already incredibly tanned. I let you see my smirk at that. I know you love it when my skin is golden, when our flesh contrasts when we're holding hands. You walk into the sea, whining about its coldness against your belly and lower back. You look like a five years old jumping at every wave with a scream to avoid your chest to get wet. So I'm jumping on you and drag your body into the water, splashing together through the waves. I love how you look when your hair is slick with water, dripping slowly on your shoulders.

It's the way your head weighs on my lap that night. You're sleeping soundly as I watch some old american movie, way too angsty for me. It tells the story of a woman who's being seduced by the Angel of Death. It's beautiful, atrocious, and it's perfect. I forget everything and drown in a kind of daze, caressing your hair slowly as the drama unfolds on the screen. When it's over, I cry. You open your eyes then, woken up by the sudden silence. The first thing you see is me crying and without a word you sit up and cradle me into your loving arms, lulling me to sleep.

It's in my astonishment when you open the door to my place that morning and your hair is perfectly bleached again. You're pursuing an ideal of beauty that is unreachable, always changing your hair and dieting. My heart is now used to these changes and I can honestly say I like every single version of you. You're smiling shyly, as if asking me for my opinion. I smile in return and mess this perfect new haircut a little bit with a hand, lingering there, my fingers massaging your scalp just to hear purrs coming out of your throat. There's no point in giving my opinion anyway. You'll keep changing hair everytime you feel insecure about us.

It's in your heartwarming laugh that resonates in my flat as I'm running after you. You just stole my guitar because you want my undivided attention, and the mean instrument has kept me composing since you arrived. I didn't want to stop and I didn't want to tell you what I was writing. I can become obsessed by a melody, a song, words that invade my head and won't leave unless I materialize them on paper. You've got this amazing smile of yours when you're utterly amused by something. My favorite guitar is in your right hand and you're looking at it like a rival. You tell the instrument to leave your Ryo-chan and to go back to sleep on its stand. I think you're crazy. Finally you let it go carefully, resting it against the cabinet. I claim your lips and kiss you with all my might. A guitar will never be more important than you.

It's in your desperate look at me when Hina confronts you with the exact content of our relationship. He has you pinned against a wall in our changing room and didn't see me coming in. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish's gasping for air. You're at loss for words and ideas. He's dead serious and there's no way we can avoid trial now. I catch his shoulder and jerk it to give you some place... His eyes are surprised and disapointed as he looks at both of us, panting with nervousness. My worst fears are coming to life as the others enter the room only to discover the peculiar scene. Let's our ordeal start.

It's in your arms surrounding my chest when I'm jumping out of anger towards our oldest members. They're judging us, saying that we shouldn't, that we don't know what we're doing. That we don't love each other for real. The soothing warmth of your body against my back brings me back to reason and I just growl, like a wounded dog. 

It's in your voice, that you found again, calm and deep, explaining them everything. You tell them that it wasn't planned, that it just happened. It's been here for years now. You tell them to screw their fucking heartless rules, after all our band is all about love. And we know we're in love. You're being so much better than me at explaining all this and I suddenly think about this appaling movie and the way you took care of me then. Could you be more mature than me in the end ? Despite your childish antics and sappy outbursts, you're the one being the adult here, the one keeping me from falling off the cliff.

It's in your heartbeat I feel against my chest, reassuring and strong, when we're finally left together. Things have gone pretty okay. The three idiots are sulking a bit but they accepted to listen to us, they may even not mention it further, as long as we stay discreet. Shota just basically winked at me with his “well done” smile. Maru has been himself and hugged us together, crushing our bodies with his strong arms. I'm exhausted and rest my forehead against your shoulder, murmuring a weak thank you.

It's in your amazing eyes when you lift my chin up with your fingers. The love. The accomplishment. You're proud and gorgeous. I want to make you mine again now, here, without restraint. You're giving me a chaste kiss and let me go slowly. We still have a long meeting to endure and the atmosphere will be tense. We can overcome this together and our friends can as well. We've known the seven of us for almost twenty years now and nothing can destroy that bond. I know it when Hina's hand lands softly on my back when I seat next to him in the meeting room. It's warm and friendly, a way to convey their eventual approval.

What makes us, _us_... It's in your eyes blurred with pleasure as I'm loving you with all my passion, when we're reduced to moans and sensations, heat and feelings. You're grabbing my hair with strength in the wake of your orgasm, pulling me up to your mouth for a messy kiss. Your voice is faint, broken, but you still manage to catch your breath and whisper into my ear.

_You're mine. Breaking the rules has never felt so right._


End file.
